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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28387569">Be Not Afraid</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Quannon/pseuds/Quannon'>Quannon</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Broadchurch</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Case Fic, Christmas/New Year, F/M, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Kidnapping, Romance, Water</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-01-02</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-01-02</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-10 14:34:05</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Graphic Depictions Of Violence</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>5</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>8,393</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28387569</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Quannon/pseuds/Quannon</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Where Rev Paul Coates shines</p><p>This is a story about a child kidnapping and a water rescue.  The child isn't hurt and everything turns out ok.  There is reference to past domestic abuse but not in detail.  I did pick teen and up to be on the safe side.</p><p>This is a case fic.  As has been said about war, police work is a whole lot of boring punctuated by moments of sheer terror.  I hope I have struck a good balance.</p><p>There is romance, but, as always, it is subtle and not easily identified between Hardy and Miller, not even by themselves.</p><p>It will be necessary to suspend disbelief long enough to believe in an advertised open-air festival at night at mid-winter on the coast in the UK.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Alec Hardy &amp; Ellie Miller, Alec Hardy/Ellie Miller</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>13</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Flyer</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>Dorset Ecumenical Coalition, part of the UK Inter-Faith Network, </strong>
</p><p>
  <strong>hosting a celebration of:</strong>
</p><p> </p><p> New Year’s Eve at the Beach at Broadchurch</p><p> </p><p>Opening march through Broadchurch (6:30-7:00 PM) led by <strong>The Unique Piper</strong></p><p>Live music with dance platforms (7-9 PM) – <strong>The West Country Folk Band</strong></p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <strong>Local Artesian Stalls (7-9 pm)</strong>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <strong>Food Stalls (7-9 pm)</strong>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <strong>Provided by Auntie Bea’s Bakery and Coffee in Broadchurch:</strong>
</p><p>Oatmeal cakes (Scottish Hogemany)</p><p>Bannocks (Irish)</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <strong>Provided by The Honeyed Fig Bakery in Bridport: </strong>
</p><p>Sohan Asali – Iranian honey, sugar, saffron and nuts pastry</p><p>Ghraybeh -  Middle Eastern shortbread biscuit</p><p>Islamic New Year is in August.  These are treats are from Eid al-Fitr or breaking the fast at the end of Ramadan in May.</p><p> </p><p>
  <strong>Provided by Druidic Grove of the Jurassic: </strong>
</p><p>Dorset Knob biscuits with Blue Vinny cheese</p><p>Dorset Golden Apple Cake slices</p><p> </p><p>
  <strong>Provided by Broadchurch Café:</strong>
</p><p>Hot cocoa and roasted chestnuts</p><p>Spiced local cider (non-alcoholic)</p><p> </p><p>
  <strong>Provided by St. Anthony’s Church and Short’s Fish and Chips:</strong>
</p><p>
  <strong>(At the regular fish and chip booth)</strong>
</p><p>Apples dipped in honey (Jewish)</p><p>Fish and Chips (UK)</p><p> </p><p>
  <strong>Provided by Traders:</strong>
</p><p>Wassail and hot pints</p><p> </p><p>
  <strong>Pop up stalls will provide hot coffee and other snacks.  Child-minding by previous appt at Peer One on High Street</strong>
</p><p> </p><p>St Anthony’s church bells ring/New Year festival blessing at 9PM</p><p>Fireworks (9:15-10PM)</p><p>To celebrate and to scare off evil (multiple cultural origins)</p><p> </p><p>
  <strong>Dress warmly</strong>
</p><p>
  <strong>May you all find a tall and dark first footer (Scottish) for good luck!</strong>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Crowd Control</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>DI Alec Hardy sighed heavily as the clock ticked over to 5PM and the police station cleared out as though by magic.  Now there was only himself and PC Bob Daniels left on duty in the building.  </p>
<p>He couldn’t blame them exactly since they were punctual, a behavior he admired, even though punctual in this case meant leaving at precisely quitting time.  It was December 31 after all, and he knew that other people had families.  If he didn’t know this on his own, Miller would remind him of it mercilessly.  Case in point, just an hour ago:</p>
<p>“People need to go home, see their families, and get ready for New Years.  Don’t be such a knob about this!”  </p>
<p>She’d wanted him to let everyone go early but he just couldn’t do that.  It was a skeleton crew as it was with extra on-call shifts to handle the expected New Year’s Eve uptick.  If only criminals went to a skeleton/on-call crew at the same time.  </p>
<p>And then there were the people scheduled to cover this New Year’s Eve Festival.  Of all the harebrained things he could think of, going down to the beach in the middle of winter to eat food and dance on wooden platforms and then sit in the sand (with the waves crashing not yards away!) to watch fireworks over the water hadn’t even crossed wildest nightmares.  Plus, a parade with a bloody piper no less!  JFC on a crutch.  The traffic jam will be horrendous; kids are going to get lost in the dark; someone is going to roast marshmallows in the bonfire and There Will Be Trouble (paramedics already sorted and on call; Bridport A &amp; E warned).  Not to mention, the adult revelers continuing their revel at the local night spots that they are already conveniently at.  If this night passes with only minor injuries, few arrests, and all the children accounted for he would put alms in Paul Coates poor box.  </p>
<p>Hardy pondered that for a minute.  He wasn’t sure poor boxes, as such, existed anymore.  Or alms.  But it barely mattered.  If he kept is mouth shut, Paul would never know, and if he didn’t, Paul would find a poor box quick as, ah, whatever was quick.  There was always a fund raiser going on for one or another of his projects.  His latest one raised money to get St Anthony’s painted before it weathered away.</p>
<p>He knew that the reverend had worked tirelessly within the community to revive this original mission in the heart of Broadchurch and re-purpose it to meet community needs.  His low-key approach had succeeded.  Both Girl Guides and Sea Cadets met there now as well as other organizations.  Paul had not looked for the Church to chair them, but to be on the advisory board.  That way the people felt in control, but the Church was still involved.  Paul had learned the art of compromise.  </p>
<p>Hardy knew how much effort ‘compromise’ took after years of working with Miller.  He grudgingly admired Paul for his achievements. The rewards were worth it.  For Paul, his services were gaining a few more worshipers, even if some of them were just trying to make up for their behavior the night before at nearby drinking establishments (location being still as important as ever).  For Hardy, he believed that he and Miller were the best detective team in Dorset.  </p>
<p>Hardy resolutely did not think about the fact that he had no family to go home to what with Daisy off to university.  Instead, he thought about what Miller had told him her plans were.  She was meeting up with Beth and they planned to get some dancing in.  Tom was meeting friends to grab some food from the stalls and ‘point and laugh’ at the adults on the dance floor.  Miller said she’d challenged him to try some of the dances himself, but he had just scoffed.  Fred was staying home with his grandfather, but she’d promised to go get him to see the fireworks.  Hardy wondered who her dance partner was.</p>
<p>Nothing for it.  At 5:30 he snicked his reading glasses shut and put them back in his breast pocket.  He wanted to check that the extra security the Council had authorized was on station.  If nothing else, traffic direction and where to park were going to be paramount.  He slid into his Burberry knock off trench coat and turned the collar up against the chill.  Miller had hounded him into getting something warmer than his winter suit jackets.  He’d gotten this to just get the noise to stop.</p>
<p>Grumbling still under his breath he swept past PC Bob with a nod.  “You call me if anything comes up straight way.  Before calling anyone else.  I’ll be close.”</p>
<p>PC Bob nodded agreeably.  It wasn’t like they hadn’t been over this a million times, but he had a soft spot for the eternally grumpy DI.  He thought Hardy just needed bananas and oatmeal for breakfast.  It cured indigestion and intestinal blockages best not mentioned in polite company.</p>
<p>It was a miracle the wind had dropped to almost nothing.  It was still cold and damp and salty, but if the air didn’t move over you, it didn’t feel so bad.  Bracing Miller called it.  She would.  </p>
<p>He headed toward the Stationary Rd entrance to the car park paralleling High Street on the east.  People could get to Broadchurch from Bridport either by Broadchurch Rd directly or by going over Richard Rd to Stationary Rd.  Broadchurch Rd came in at the north end of town turning into the upper end of High Street and Stationary Rd came in from the east intersecting the lower end of High Street.  Both ways provided easy access to the large public car park.  All the other car parks in the town business district had been taken over by temporary dance floors, pop-up food stalls, or the inevitable local artisan stalls for the festivities.  It was essential that security directed people to park there and not enter Broadchurch proper.</p>
<p>He trudged across the bridge to the east side of town, past Auntie Bea’s Bakery and found, much to his relief, that the south entrance of the car park at Stationary Rd did have its allotted security personnel.  They were already starting to direct traffic into it.  He nodded to Clive Bentner, the head of the squad at this end, and turned left to go up through the car park to the Broadchurch Rd entrance.  At 6pm, the trickle of families and their children was becoming a stream.  The march was starting in 30 minutes so many families were heading in that direction while some were heading directly toward the beach.  He pushed through the growing crowd and saw with ultimate relief that Phillip Upward and his crew were solidly in control.  Again, Hardy gave the high sign when Phillip turned his way.  Then Hardy turned to go back down the High Street to complete his inspection tour.  He walked past shops and permanent food stalls that were open for the evening’s trade.  There was one shop-based child-minding business open by appointment only the sign said.  They usually handled drop ins for busy shoppers but were taking advantage of the night’s event.  </p>
<p>He also noted the pop-up stalls as he reached Stationary Rd again and that the ‘not permitted’, but not unexpected, buskers had arrived.  He broadcast texted their presence to the watch. The plan was to overlook their permit violation unless they caused a problem of some sort.  None had been permitted to perform, most were just plying their trade, but a few would need to be watched.  </p>
<p>He stopped for a moment in front St Anthony’s near the metal scaffolding that had been erected.  The much-needed paint job was underway. It was too much to take the scaffolding down for the festival, but the painters had removed the ladders and wrapped the structure by hanging several paint-spattered black tarps tied together with wire-cored rope to discourage unauthorized climbing.  Of course, the ties could be cut or undone but it was a good attempt.  On the street side, they had also added a strip of reflective white tape at eye level to keep people from walking into the tarp at night.</p>
<p>He looked across the street at the temporary dance floor that had been set up in the car park in front of Traders.  It was already starting to fill with people ready to dance under the festive multi-colored paper lantern lights or to just indulge in some publicly acceptable belly rubbing to the slow tunes.  The local traditional musicians were warming up on a small stage backing onto the building.  The piper would join them after the march.  </p>
<p>To the west, in the smaller car park for the pier, the food stalls were lined up backed to the water.  Everything looked as it should, lighting seemed fine for a night event and safety precautions were in place to keep people from wandering into the water accidentally.  </p>
<p>He moved toward his own allotted position on the bridge over the river connecting east and west Broadchurch.  In retrospect, he possibly should have gotten the liner for his trench coat even if it was extra.  There was a biting breeze over the water.  Maybe Miller would hound him to go get the liner now that it was probably marked down for the season.</p>
<p>The job at this location was to discourage people from crossing to the non-festival and residential areas.  And, if they were driving, to direct them back up toward Harold St to get back on the High Street to reach the car park or go out of town as they chose.  The festivities were all at the East Beach but that wouldn’t stop people from bleeding over into the esplanade on the West side and then complain and cause trouble when there was nothing to do there.  People, he sighed inwardly, he didn’t seem to be able to live with them and he didn’t seem to be able to live without them.  At times, the paradox almost killed him.</p>
<p>He saw Miller with Tom browsing at the food stalls across the small, sheltered harbor from him.  Tom looked anxious to get on with his own affairs, but Miller was having none of it.  Oh well, he’d hear all about it when she got back in the office.  </p>
<p>Then he heard the bagpipe.  For a second, he had a rush of nostalgia for his birthplace.  He didn’t have all bad memories of growing up in Scotland although misery marred a lot of it.  And even so, home is still home.  But he shook it off and started keeping a sharper eye out for wandering festival goers as the march came down the High Street and finally stopped in front of St Anthony’s.  </p>
<p>Revelers had two ways to go from there to get to the music and food and artisan stalls.  Hardy had a good view of the people going toward Trader’s.  Bentner had the same for monitoring the crowd turning further east to the festival converted beachside car park.  Most of the artisan stalls and buskers were there.  Neither he nor Bentner could see all the way to the dark east beach where the fireworks would go off, but there were police positioned close to hand there too.  </p>
<p>Just after 7 pm the music started up.  He could almost remember when he would have thought this would be a fun night out, but that was long ago and far away.  He briefly pictured Miller on the dance floor flushed with exertion and laughing with her partner.  But then he remembered walking the beat in Glasgow in the cold of the winter and the dangers of dreaming.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. A Child is Missing</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Hardy reflected that his feet were too numb to feel as he watched Rev Paul Coates thread his way over to the bridge.  Paul in his white cassock alb and chasuble was definitely more warmly dressed than Hardy.  Apparently, there was going to be some kind of service tonight as well.  Great.</p>
<p>Paul reached out his right hand and Hardy took it even though he didn’t want to.  He hated handshakes even though he knew he was probably mis-reading the social cues.  They always seemed like a test of strength.  He would just rather avoid them all together, but even he could see it would be weird if he didn’t shake Paul’s hand if Paul extended it.  So, he shook hands with Paul and tried not to be too strong, or too weak, or too quick, or too slow, or … bloody hell Hardy … it’s a handshake not a treaty signing.</p>
<p>“I just found out that we didn’t cover everything about the upcoming blessing.”  Paul had the grace to look apologetic.</p>
<p>Hardy bit the inside of his lip.  Years of training by Miller had convinced him that no good would come from barking at Paul.  He could wait and do it properly later if this was a right balls-up.  “Not just a service in St Anthony’s then.”</p>
<p>Paul got straight to the point.  He’d had his own years of training by Miller in how to deal with DI Hardy.  Straightforward, no hinting or unnecessary politeness; start with the handshake so that he remembers his manners.  “No.  The plan, as you know, is for St. Anthony’s to ring the bells in about 15 minutes at 9PM.  Then, the part you don’t know, the participants will speak from the scaffolding that’s already there.  The mayor will say a few words, and then the representatives of the Inter-faith coalition will each recite a short, ecumenical prayer or blessing for the New Year.  Then at 9:15, as planned, the fireworks will begin from the barge offshore.  We realized as we finished up the sound system tonight that we hadn’t told the police that the blessing was outside on the scaffolding platform.”</p>
<p>Hardy wanted to be furious, but he couldn’t really think of a reason why this was a bad idea.  It is deflating if he can’t think of even one thing that could go wrong.  “Well, no harm done, I guess.  You’ll speak over a loudspeaker I take it?”</p>
<p>Paul tried to hide his elation that his Hardy-handling skills had improved so much.  DI Hardy wasn’t a bad person, just a very very very intense person.  And, he thought, possibly anxious in social situations not involving criminal interrogation.   “Yes.  The band quits at 9, so the music will die down and the loudspeakers will be heard.  It’s a good segue for the musicians.  When the people turn again, they’ll see the band has broken down and they can just head to the beach for the fireworks.”  </p>
<p>Hardy nodded.  That actually was good thinking.  Distract the crowd, some of which will have had too much to drink, and let the musicians make their escape.  “All right.  I send out a text to everyone that the blessing is outside over the loudspeaker.  Thanks for letting me know.”</p>
<p>Paul almost fell over.  Thanks, from Hardy?  Unreal.  He smiled.  “You might want to keep an eye on it yourself.  Tom Miller helped with the special lighting.”</p>
<p>Not a girl, Hardy thought.  Tech, the other teenage passion.  He was looking forward to Ellie’s probably effusive and inaccurate future description of whatever it is that Tom was doing tonight.  “Thanks for letting me know, Paul.  Good luck.”</p>
<p>Paul smiled and turned back toward the church.  A handshake, a thank you and a good luck from DI Alec Hardy.  May wonders never cease!  </p>
<p>Hardy sent out the text and thought, “Halfway through.  Might survive.”</p>
<p>Hardy stayed on station although next to no one was coming this way anymore.  With not much to do, he watched Paul and his team roll down another paint-splattered black tarp from the taller back poles (church side) of the scaffolding.  It now formed a dark back drop so that when the speakers stood on the platform facing the crowd, they would stand out when the spotlight hit them.  The original tarps hid the street side guard rails effectively making the bottom of the black frame, like a tv bevel, for the impromptu stage.  There were portable metal steps up one side of the platform now and some last-minute re-wiring with several teenagers, including Tom, fluttering around what looked like lighting equipment whose cables extended across the narrow street to the boat ramp area for better angles.  It was all quickly sorted.  The microphone stand appeared just as the church bells began to ring promptly at 9 PM.</p>
<p>For two minutes, the bells of St Anthony’s peeled clear and sweet over Broadchurch, ringing out the old year and ringing in the new.  Everyone stopped and listened to the ethereal vibrations that seemed to be all around and yet within them at the same time.</p>
<p>A normal peel would have gone on longer, but this was an ecumenical festival, and everyone should have their fair share of the time.</p>
<p>As the last bell vibrated away into silence, Rev Paul Coates stepped up to the microphone.  “Welcome everyone to this first Broadchurch Inter-Faith New Year’s Festival!  I want to thank you all for being here and hope that you are enjoying yourselves!”</p>
<p>The crowd had had time during the bell ringing to sort the scaffolding slash speaker platform.  They were mostly all looking in the right direction when the warm spotlight brought Paul into focus.  There was shouted agreement and at least one person in the back adding, “Make it short, mate!”</p>
<p>Paul chuckled, the amplifiers perfunctorily squealed before being squelched, and he raised his hands for quiet.  Surprisingly, or maybe just because they all wanted it to be short, the crowd quieted.  “Our mayor, Ian Smithleen, and representatives of four traditions will provide short (I promise) blessings and wishes for a Happy New Year tonight.  For our first speaker, I have the honor of introducing our mayor, Ian Smithleen!”</p>
<p>A predictably portly gentleman stepped up to the microphone as Paul moved to his left.  With a nod to Paul, he said, “Good to see you all here tonight!  No big speeches from me.  I wish you all a healthy and happy New Year here in our great town of Broadchurch!”  He waved to the crowd as they all cheered his briefness and stepped back as Paul moved to introduce the next speaker.</p>
<p>“Thank you, Mayor Smithleen!  Our next speaker is Herbalist Sylvia from our local Grove of the Jurassic.”  </p>
<p>Again predictably, a tall, willowy woman in a flowing version of a cassock alb moved to the mic.  She had a bucket with her that she placed on the planking and withdrew a slightly smokey smudge bundle that she waved over the microphone and generally toward the crowd.  Those close enough could smell the sweet cedar smoke.  “Greetings,” she intoned in a soft, smooth voice.  And then chanting with arms upraised,<br/>“Smoke of air, fire of earth,<br/> Bless and cleanse our homes and hearth.<br/> Drive away all harm and fear.<br/> Only good may enter here.<br/> Happy New Year!”</p>
<p>She smiled and stepped back.</p>
<p>“Thank you, Sylvia.  May I introduce Rabbi Benjamin.”</p>
<p>A rather non-descript gentlemen stepped to the mic.  “I wish for us all to have a wonderful new year remembering<br/>For the things that we can change, there is realignment,<br/>For the things we cannot change, there is prayer,<br/>For the help we can give, there is justice.<br/>Together, let us write a beautiful Book of Life<br/>for the Holy One to read.”</p>
<p>“Thank you, Rabbi.  May I introduce Imam Henderson.”  </p>
<p>A small gentleman wearing a white Kufi stepped to the mic.  In a surprisingly deep voice, he said,<br/>“Oh, Protector of all, protect us from harm and turmoil. Oh, Most Gracious, Most Merciful, enter this New Year with success and peace for us all.”</p>
<p>“Thank you.”  Paul was just about to add his own comments, keeping remarkably close to the timetable when there was a visceral high-pitched scream that the microphone somehow picked up and amplified to the entire area.</p>
<p>“Alice!  He’s taken Alice!”  A distraught woman ran into the cleared space in front of the speakers scaffolding.  She held her arms out and turned in a circle looking for help from the people there.  “Please, he’ll hurt her.  He won’t mean to, but he’ll hurt her.  Help me!”</p>
<p>As people stared at the distraught woman, stunned into silence, Hardy jumped on his walkie talkie to reach all the squads simultaneously.  “PC Lawson.  Pete, you should be closest from the food stalls.  Can you get to her right away?”</p>
<p>To his relief, Lawson immediately answered, “On it, sir.”  Hardy could see him making his way to the woman.  “Get names first and a quick description or picture as fast as you can.  We can get started on the hunt while we get the rest of the details.”</p>
<p>“Yes sir.”  <br/>“Who do we have here that knows tech?  If we can get a picture, maybe we can use the lighting set up somehow to show the picture on the church wall.  Get more eyes to help.”</p>
<p>There was some crackling then SOCO Brian came on.  “I know a bit o’ that.  Not sure there’s any kind of projector in their kit, but I’ll get over there right now.”  </p>
<p>“Brian?”  Hardy almost squeaked in surprise.  “Thought you had the night off.”</p>
<p>There was something that could be interpreted as the audio version of a smirk.  “Always on duty sir.”</p>
<p>Hardy recovered.  “Let me know as quick as you can.”  He paused a minute.  “I’m staying here as I’m at the choke point for possible escape over the bridge.  Bentner, how are you deployed?”</p>
<p>Bentner provided details and was moving his crew into a better search pattern waiting for more information on who they were looking for.  Upward was similarly on the move at the north end of town.  If they weren’t already too late, the police were in an unusually good position to find this little girl if they could just get the description or picture soon.</p>
<p>“Whoever’s on the beach, respond with your area of coverage.”</p>
<p>Two PCs replied, one on either end of the beach.  With just a little more information, it seemed like all the exits from town were covered.</p>
<p>The walkie talkie spoke.  “Miller here.”  </p>
<p>“Miller, another off duty.”  He shut his eyes and remembered his sensitivity training administered by Miller with shouts loud enough to break his eardrums.  He ground out, “Good to have you and Brian aboard.”</p>
<p>“I can liaise with Paul if you’d like.  He has the microphone.  That way all on-duty personnel are free for the hunt.”  There was a soft something in her voice.  Maybe he’d done ok on the open channel sensitivity.</p>
<p>“Good idea.  Get him to give you the microphone and tell the crowd to report anything they think is suspicious to a nearby uniformed officer and under no circumstances to approach on their own.”  He paused, then, “I know this will slow some of us down.  Those not in uniform working theft prevention can continue unimpeded by all the noise we know we’ll get from people trying to be helpful.  But we don’t need mistaken interactions with the public and any potential suspect if we can avoid it.”  Upward and Bentner responded “Sir!” to indicate approval as did several of the deployed officers.  Hardy was hopeful they could get this under control.</p>
<p>Hardy kept aware of his surroundings as he watched Miller approach the scaffold, climb the steps, and have a discussion with Paul.  He could see SOCO Brian discussing something with a flock of teenagers around the equipment in the boat ramp area.  One of the kids dashed into the church and came out with something that sparked an animated discussion in the group.  Lawson had moved the agitated woman off toward the church to get some distance from the interested and concerned people in the crowd.  Another PC was trying to herd idiots that just wanted to drink out of the way.  Paul joined Lawson in talking to the woman.</p>
<p>It seemed like an eternity passed but it was really only a couple of minutes.  Miller had talked to Paul and climbed to the now empty platform; Paul was now standing with the woman as Lawson gave what was probably the woman’s phone to Brian.  Brian pinged on the walkie talkie.  “No good on the projection idea.  We just don’t have the equipment here to bring enough focus to a photo to do any good.  But I can take the photo I have ‘ere and get it dispersed to your, Bentner’s, and Upward’s crews’ phones if you like.  At least we’d have the pic of the abductor and the child.”</p>
<p>“Do it.  Add their names.  I’ll add instructions now while you’re doing that.”  Hardy thought a moment as he looked at Miller on the platform.  “Thank you, Brian.”  </p>
<p>Brian did the smirking thing again but said nothing and got on with his task.</p>
<p>“All officers.  SOCO Brian Young has determined that we do not have the necessary equipment to project a picture to get public participation.  He is sending you pics from the woman’s phone of her little girl and her potential abductor and their names.  As always, primary objective here is the safe return of the child.”</p>
<p>Hardy again thought a moment.  Probably was a bad idea about the projection anyway.  Too much public participation is not always a good thing.  “Miller, be sure to add the names in your announcement.”</p>
<p>Waiting at his post and doing nothing was an almost unbearable torture.  He wanted to be out looking, searching, finding the little girl before anything bad happens.  But it would be pointless to run off without knowing more than he did now.  Dozens of fathers in the crowd probably had their little girls’ hands in theirs right this moment.  The helpless feeling from finding Pippa’s body began to crawl over him.  There was water here but no need to jump to the worst.  The man was probably still trying to escape.  “He won’t mean to, but he’ll hurt her.” Echoed in his heart.  It hasn’t happened; it won’t happen; he’ll make sure it won’t happen.</p>
<p>He ruthlessly squelched the panic that threatened to make his heart race.  He didn’t have time for that kind of thing.  Instead, he started making a careful examination of the pier area at his station.  Abductor and child were still likely over in the crowd which means he’d be looking for some way that didn’t go right past a flock of police officers.  Maybe a boat?</p>
<p>“PC Daniels.”  Still at the station, maybe Bob could liaise with the Coast Guard in case a water escape succeeded.  “Sir” came Bob’s crisp reply.  “See if you can get the Coast Guard and Coast Guard Rescue on the line.  It is possible there may be a water escape attempt or water rescue required.  See if they can stand by.”</p>
<p>“Sir”, Bob signed off.</p>
<p>His phone pinged.  As he looked at the texts Brian had sent, Miller addressed Broadchurch.</p>
<p>“Hello.  I’m DS Miller, Wessex Police.  I appreciate all of you that are helping us to quickly resolve this situation.  We are looking for a little 5-year-old girl.  Her name is Alice.  Her hair is blonde and done up in two french braids.  She is dressed in a blue puffy jacket over a pink sweatshirt with a unicorn on it.  She has on navy fleece track trousers and white trainers.  If you see her, please inform the closest police officer you see.  Do not approach Alice or the person she is with yourself for both your own and the little girl’s safety.  Thank you for your help.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Be Not Afraid</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Hardy picked up the walkie talkie again.  “Bentner and Upward, report progress as your sections are searched.  I want to know where we’ve been.  Work your net so that you are closing the circle on the downtown area.  If he’s still here, we don’t want him escaping through an area we thought we cleared.”</p>
<p>Multiple “Sir! s” came over the walkie talkie but no new leads.  Miller had gone to join Paul and PC Lawson in talking to the woman.  SOCO Brian was still visible by the lighting assembly.  He could see the uniformed officers being inundated with unhelpful advice and he could see some of the non-uniformed officers that he could recognize from a distance methodically working the crowd.</p>
<p>No one was coming his way.</p>
<p>Negative reports trickled in.  More officers were becoming concentrated in the beach side areas in front of him.  If the abductor was still here, he would be getting increasingly desperate.  </p>
<p>The walkie talkie crackled, and Miller’s voice came through.  “Hardy.  The father is Roger Trilley, 39, brown hair worn longish.  He drinks and when he drinks, he believes the world is against him.  He has been known to strike out at both Irene, Mrs. Trilley, and at Alice, because he thought they had turned against him.  It is likely that he has been drinking this evening as the divorce is about to become final.”</p>
<p>The broadcast went to all officers to save time.  He let it sink in for a moment and then spoke.  “Remember our paramount objective is the safe return of the little girl, Alice.  If it is Mr. Trilley that has her, take care not to provoke him if possible.  We know who he is, we can always round him up later.  Get the girl to safety first.”</p>
<p>“Sir!”  rang out multiple times in response.</p>
<p>Two men approached from Harold St to Hardy’s left wearing in Coast Guard Rescue uniforms.  The local voluntary Coast Guard Rescue station was just up Harold St.  The taller one extended his hand and Hardy sweated through another handshake.  “Deputy Station Officer Henderson.  This is Rescue Officer Jones.  Sorry to meet like this.”</p>
<p>Hardy grunted in return.  “Glad you were on station.”</p>
<p>“New Year’s seemed a likely time for a rescue to be needed.  We got the short straw.”  Henderson smiled.  “How can we help? Your officer told us the gist of the problem with the missing girl.”</p>
<p>“I’m worried that we are doing too good a job in closing the net around this downtown area.  We have reports that if it is the father that has taken the child, he’s probably been drinking.  If he’s been drinking, he may become desperate for any way to escape.  If he tries to take a boat and escape on the water, there could be a need for either water rescue or help in blocking him from getting out onto the open sea.  A drinking man is likely to be in no shape to pilot a boat of any kind with a five-year-old on board.”</p>
<p>Henderson and Jones looked at each other seemingly communicating silently.  Undoubtedly, Hardy thought, well suited partners who are reviewing their options before speaking.  He briefly wondered if Jones shouted.  </p>
<p>Henderson spoke.  “We have to call into the Portland MSRC but I’m sure that we can assist.  I’ll get onto the maritime division and see if they have anyone in our sector that could stand by offshore.  Jones and I can help with a rescue here in the harbor, but we don’t have a boat.  We work along the coast in conjunction with the maritime division helicopters or vessels as needed.  But may we suggest the NPAS helicopter be requested on standby?  Both the Exeter and Bournemouth NPAS stations are about 30 minutes away by air.  It is unlikely that the helicopters will miss him even 30 minutes out if the boat escapes the harbor.”</p>
<p>A relief Hardy didn’t know he needed flowed through him.  If there was water involved, he wouldn’t be alone.  Involuntarily he smiled.  “Excellent idea!  I’ll get on straight onto that.  Stop by the police station.  I’ll have Bob outfit you with our walkie talkies so that you can follow the latest updates.  Let me know what your command center decides.”</p>
<p>Both men smiled in return and turned west toward the police station.  After they picked up the walkie talkies, they’d go back and kit up in case they were needed.</p>
<p>Hardy texted Bob to have a couple of walkie talkies ready and then broadcast that the Coast Guard would be on their communications channel ready to assist if a water rescue were needed.  Finally, he updated CS Clarke and requested the standby help of an NPAS helicopter in case the suspect did escape by boat from the harbor.  </p>
<p>After that, Hardy had done all he could do.  Thank god Ollie hadn’t shown up yet.  He couldn’t cope with the so-called reporter in the middle of organizing the hunt for this child.</p>
<p>Miller and Lawson and Paul were still with the woman.  SOCO Brian was still with the teenagers at the lighting equipment but he had been joined by Beth.  Officers were still working the crowd.  Negative updates were trickling in from Upward and Bentner.  No one was coming toward the bridge.  Something nagged at the back of his mind about the constables that had reported in from the beach.  </p>
<p>Unbelievably, only fifteen minutes had passed.</p>
<p>Hardy studied the sheltered harbor.  His reflexes would be automatic if the abductor tried to cross the bridge to escape or go up Harold St to reach the fields.  But if he went for a boat, that was a different thing.</p>
<p>The harbor was between 35-40 meters across.  There was a time when he could have swum that in a little over a minute.  Not even average time, but not a dead stop either.  The water looked icy cold and dark and smelled of land more than ocean.</p>
<p>There were maybe 40-45 shallow draft boats of varying sizes moored next to the pilings or anchored out plus maybe 15-20 rowboats lined up on the far side next to the food stalls.  There were wooden ladders down the sides about every 2-3 meters.  At low tide, the boats sat on the exposed mudflat.  He didn’t know which way the tide was running (low or high), but, by the look of the watermarks on the wall, it was possible that he could touch the bottom here if he stretched out his toes.  The was a single staircase from the food stall area down to the water.  A person could think that was a way out.  And there was a 5-meter inboard motorboat tied up next to the stairs.  If he could start the boat, he could get away.  Although most boat engines needed keys he thought.  </p>
<p>Hardy spoke into the walkie talkie.  “Miller, ask Mrs. Trilley what her husband does for a living.  Does he work with boats?”</p>
<p>“Sir.”  Miller went silent but came quickly back.  “He’s got a tourist sport fishing business.  Takes people for tours or fishing trips for bream, bass, and turbot in the summer and mostly for cod in the winter.  He has a boat named Alice Smiles.”</p>
<p>Hardy looked across and could make out the name in white on the side:  Alice Smiles.  “All officers.  The father is now definitely the main suspect although we can’t confirm until he’s sighted.  His boat is here at the stairway behind the food stalls.  Bentner, send two people over there right away to block that hole.”</p>
<p>“On it!  Olivet … Harford … on the double!”</p>
<p>“Sir!”</p>
<p>Hardy barely took in the last commands as he scanned the area around him to be sure no one got by while he was talking.  Then he looked back at the harbor, planning in case it all went sideways.</p>
<p>He looked at the ladders against the walls and the water and the boat and he knew.  He knew that if it came to it, he would have to go into the water and get that little girl.  He couldn’t send the Coast Guard rescuers if the abductor was not yet apprehended.  He couldn’t risk their safety.  It would have to be him.  Pray God they caught the abductor before he reached the boat.</p>
<p>And just like that.  Prayer failed him.</p>
<p>Like a rumbling from a dam failing, the knots of people he could see along the pier that led down to the East Beach were tumbling from side to side.  Something was plowing its way through and heading toward the food stalls.  The sound of the screaming and yelling seemed to reach Hardy like thunder after a far away lightning strike.  “All officers.  We are in pursuit along the pier by the food stalls.  Miller, keep Mrs. Trilley with you.  Don’t let her leave.”</p>
<p>Hardy watched as officers started to emerge from all sides of the crowd heading toward the trouble.  It felt good to have action as the waiting, even for the short time it lasted, was unbearable.  </p>
<p>Then he could see a large man running clutching a child in his arms.  Although his features were more in the shadows than not from the downward illumination provided by the streetlamps, he could see, or maybe just felt, a wildness and desperation rolling off the running form.  </p>
<p>Behind him there were two constables in pursuit.  To the east there were other police rapidly closing in.  To the north and west of the man was the gleaming dark waters of the harbor, suddenly foreboding and ominous, as though waiting for this tragedy to play out.</p>
<p>The man got to the stairs at least 10 meters ahead of any pursuers.  He fled down the steps and leaped toward the boat.  </p>
<p>Hardy didn’t wait.  The others knew what to do without him.  He took off his trench coat and left his walkie talkie and phone and suit jacket on the pavement.  He took off his shoes and set them next to the jacket.  And he then started down the nearest ladder into the still, liquid darkness.</p>
<p>Above him, he could hear the Rescue officers arrive.  He glanced up at saw them both about to pull him back up, but he raised a hand to stop them.  He bit out in chunks as his adrenaline was already pumping, “Don’t follow until the suspect is in custody.  Can’t help if you get injured.  Should be able to keep their head above water until you can get there.”  He paused long enough to see them finally agree and then slowly continued down until he was just above the water.  Then he turned as much as he could to see what was happening on the Alice Smiles.</p>
<p>Across the harbor, the man was frantically freeing the boat from it’s mooring.  He thought he could see a smaller form near the cabin but still outside.  The constables were just at the top of the stairway.  Suddenly, a deep voice rang out, “Be not afraid!”</p>
<p>Startled, everyone, including the abductor, looked back toward the church where a figure, seemingly hanging in the air above the pavement, surrounded by twinkling star-like lights and shining in otherworldly illumination was holding up its hands in entreaty.  “Roger, be not afraid!”  As Hardy watched, the angel? spread its wings and seemed to grow in stature.</p>
<p>He snapped back toward the Alice Smiles.  No time for angels.  Hardy saw the constables had not been distracted and were swooping down the stairs and into the boat.  There was a brief struggle, as the stunned man went down, and then, somehow, there was a splash.  “Alice!!!!” the man roared.  The constables had their hands full with him as others came down the stairs to help.  </p>
<p>DI Alec Hardy launched himself into the dark ominous water.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Fah Who Foraze</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The cold hit him like the tines of Neptune’s trident.  He’d been chilled to the bone from the breeze over the river to start with, but now he couldn’t seem to even breathe.  The thought of Alice in the same cold water pushed him forward. </p>
<p>He could see the boat and headed toward it using whatever locomotion was still possible with his frozen limbs.  Some combination of dog paddle, front crawl and sheer out of body experience propelled him through the dozens of anchor lines toward the Alice Smiles.  The ropes slid over him like phantasms in the Mere of Dead Faces.  Always reaching, reaching to pull him down just as they had reached for Frodo.  He ignored the candlelight-like reflections on the water and kept on.</p>
<p>Some part of him could hear the scuffle going on in the boat, but he paid it no mind.  He scanned the surface for a little girl in a puffy coat.  Puffy coat.  Puffy coat. It chugged in his mind.  Puffy coat.  No, you idiot!!  Look below, she could be pulled down.  The faces could have pulled her down!</p>
<p>Hardy reached the boat, scanned the surface once more and then dove under the water.  He could only tell if his eyes were open or shut by the sting.  After it became constant, he no longer knew.  He just reached out and tried to ‘walk’ around the boat in case his body touched the girl. </p>
<p>He reached blindly, surfacing only when his lungs forced him too.  In seeming excruciatingly slow-motion, he searched below and scanned above in turns.  And then he felt the cloying suffocating wrap of nylon encase his hand.  He closed on it and pulled it to the surface with him, drawing in the small, tiny form inside the coat to his chest.</p>
<p>“Here.”  His voice had no volume through the ringing in his head.  “Here.  Here!!!”</p>
<p>He felt paralyzed or maybe frozen in place, holding Alice in his arms with her head above water.  He couldn’t tell if she was breathing.  It seemed like the universe had shrunk to the water and the cold and the still, still child.  His heart slowed and slowed and gradually seemed to stop.  Or maybe he just couldn’t feel it anymore.  Strange.</p>
<p>From a distance, he saw other bulky forms lunge toward him, but he was not afraid.  They could not touch him or the child in this frozen, black world. </p>
<p>But they did, with gentleness, and DI Alec Hardy gave them the child to save her as he thought he gave up the ghost.  There had been an angel hadn’t there?</p>
<p>*******</p>
<p>The next thing Hardy knew was that the cold had somehow gotten colder as he was dragged out of the water with Alice still in his arms.  How did that happen?  He began shivering in earnest as something was pulling him up into the blinding light.  Whatever he was laying on was scraping over a rough surface.  ‘Alice will be scared’, he thought.  So, he haltingly sang to her what he had sung to Daisy when she was small and fussy at Christmas long ago.</p>
<p>     Fah who foraze!</p>
<p>     (breath)</p>
<p>     Dah who doraze!</p>
<p>     (breath)</p>
<p>     Welcome Christmas, come this way!</p>
<p>     (breath)</p>
<p> </p>
<p>A small bundle cuddled into his chest singing,</p>
<p>     Fah who foraze!</p>
<p>     Dah who doraze!</p>
<p>     Welcome Christmas, Christmas Day!</p>
<p>One of the bulky people next to him laid a gentle hand on his arm and spoke.  “Just rest, DI Hardy.  Alice is safe with us.  She will be fine.”</p>
<p>‘Oh,’ he thought.  ‘Henderson and Jones.’</p>
<p>Then hands reached for him and helped him up into the light.</p>
<p>He could see Miller with her hands holding back Mrs. Trilley.  Oh, he still had Alice.  He tried to give her Alice, but Henderson took the child from him.  Miller still held onto Mrs. Trilley and Hardy closed his eyes.</p>
<p>*******</p>
<p>The next time Hardy knew anything, he was stripped down to his pants in the church with blankets wrapped around him and a furious Miller standing in front of him.</p>
<p>“You knob!”  She shouted.  “You couldn’t wait to let the properly outfitted rescue people do their jobs?  Your pacemaker could have gone off!  And,” here she shook his liner-less trench coat in his face, “You didn’t get the liner, so you went into the water almost frozen to death to start with!  No wonder you reached exhaustion from the cold so quickly!”  She finished up with a rousing chorus of “You wanker!”</p>
<p>Hardy looked up at her face and could see with a bit of wonder (it had been a night for wonders) that she was shouting because she had been scared for him.  He didn’t know what to do with that.  He was feeling at a disadvantage what with all the pins and needles pricking him as his body slowly warmed up again.  He couldn’t cope with wonder and pricks and shouting with only his pants on.  He looked away and mumbled, “Suspect not subdued.”</p>
<p>Miller was winding up to go again when he asked, “Was there an angel?”</p>
<p>She stopped mid shout and chuckled.  Good to know he was still the butt of jokes.  He looked away.</p>
<p>Miller relented and sat down beside him in the pew.  “That was Paul in his chasuble and Tom and the boys with Brian and couple of the musicians.  It just all came together as a distraction.  The band had a black light that could be rigged up quickly.  With a little stage management by Brian of all people, the black light lit up the paint splatters as well as Paul.  The boys wiggled the tarps to make the splatters twinkle.  The white vestments lit up like they had an internal light source.  Pretty effective for something on the fly.  All Paul had to do was to stand up there, say something to attract Trilley’s attention and wave his arms about.  If we got even a minute gain it was worth it.  We sent the alert on the walkie talkie so that the constables wouldn’t be distracted too.”</p>
<p>“Be not afraid?”</p>
<p>“Paul went with what he knew.”</p>
<p>“Makes sense.”  He lapsed back into silence.</p>
<p>Miller stirred next to him.  “I saw them drag you up the old boat ramp with Alice on your chest in that rescue basket.  It was too slippery to walk up.  I thought you were both dead until I saw you move.” </p>
<p>Hardy didn’t say anything.</p>
<p>“How the Grinch Stole Christmas?”  She chuckled.</p>
<p>Hardy felt his face get red hot.  “I thought Alice might be scared by the noise.  Used to sing it to Daisy.”</p>
<p>They both were silent for a minute.  Hardy could faintly hear Bentner, somewhere in the back of the church, giving Harford a good bollocking for being more interested in the arrest than the rescue.  Eventually there was an unrepentant “Sir!” from her.  Some things never change he thought.</p>
<p>Miller said, “CS Clarke is handling the press and wrapping up the search.  She said you should go home and warm up.”  Then she added, “Alice is fine although they will take her up to hospital for a thorough exam.  Trilley is in custody.”</p>
<p>Hardy thought about his cold house and the salad waiting for him in the refrigerator.  He’d gotten his cardio in today at least.</p>
<p>The fireworks started, 60 minutes late, but there was even more to celebrate now than just a new year.</p>
<p>“You are coming home with me.  I don’t want to hear any guff from you about it.”  Miller set her mouth into a firm line.  “The EMTs said you will be fine, but you shouldn’t be alone tonight just in case.  They were amazed your pacemaker hadn’t set off from the shock of the water.  I told them you were too stubborn to listen to a pacemaker.”</p>
<p>Hardy looked at her with his eyes big.  “I – “</p>
<p>“No,” She was warming up again.  “Just no.  You’re coming home with me or you’re going to hospital for observation.  Those are your choices.”  She reached over to his other side and snatched something up.  “Here.  One of Brian’s evidence suits.  Not enough by a long shot but it will cover up your bits until I can get a change of clothes for you.  Take off those wet pants or you’ll have a soggy bottom.”</p>
<p>“But ...”</p>
<p>“No buts.  I’ll help you over here to the vestry and you can change in there.  Don’t make me go get Paul or Brian or someone to make sure you do it.”</p>
<p>She stood up offering him a hand up as well. </p>
<p>Hardy looked up at her and took her hand.  He kept his other hand firmly clutched around his blankets.  Wouldn’t do to have a wardrobe malfunction now.  “All right.”  He wasn’t sure what was going to come of this, but it was a new year and Miller was forcing him to go to her house so that she could take care of him.  Could he have done something right?</p>
<p>“Besides,” she smiled at him, “Who else am I going to get to be the tall and dark first footer for good luck?”</p>
<p>*****</p>
<p>Next morning Ollie looked with satisfaction on his above the fold headline story:</p>
<p> </p>
<p>DI Alec Hardy Saves Child</p>
<p>Angel of St. Anthony’s Looks On</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Complete with pic of Alec in the rescue basket with Alice.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Mere of the Dead - Tolkien's Two Towers<br/>Lyrics from How the Grinch Stole Christmas by Dr Suess<br/>https://genius.com/Boris-karloff-welcome-christmas-reprise-lyrics</p></blockquote></div></div>
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